She didn't Wait
by Jeminbee
Summary: He never came. He never came and so she didn't wait when it was needed most. The love story of Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood and the misfortune that ruined what could have been.


Draco Malfoy pushed through the busy streets of Diagon Alley, hand-in-hand with his wife, Astoria. It was not a difficult feat- everywhere he went, people parted, distancing themselves as much away from the pair as possible. He grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes. Sometimes it helped to imagine they did it for respect, like they did with Potter, or Weasley, or Granger. But with the Golden Trio, witches and wizards gasped, and smiled, and bowed.

Somehow he just couldn't force himself to mistake a disgusted grimace for an enthusiastic grin.

"Draco, they're staring again." Astoria whimpered, tugging on his sleeve. She pressed herself closer to him, and while he let her, he couldn't help but let out a small groan at how his robes would be wrinkled. They were top-of-the-market, too.

"Ignore them, love. They're just jealous." He murmured back comfortingly, stroking her hair as much as possible without making it look bedraggled. Astoria sighed, and Draco did moments later. They both knew his statement was untrue. _Jealous_ was just a mantra, a popular word among now-a-day Death Eaters as a bandaid to the real issue at hand.

"Still, I wish they wouldn't." She said a few moments later. Her tiny nose had crinkled slightly, a clear sign she was disgruntled. Despite having done no wrongs, Astoria was always the unhappier of the two. It just didn't settle with her to be hated by the public. She was used to smiles and giggles and oohs and ahhs at her perky and curious nature. Draco's last name was, and had always been, Malfoy. He knew loathing was unavoidable.

"Well, it can't be helped." He said grumpily, shaking her off. He felt uncomfortable. The Malfoy couple was almost never seen talking around non-family members, and people were starting to crowd around to listen in. It was shameless how they didn't even bother to hide their intrigue, their eagerness of digging into some juicy gossip to spread around the media.

The whispers had started too. He bristled up angrily. Oh, how he hated the whispers. They were almost as bad as the stares. With the stares, you could keep your eyes glued to your shoes, and try to shake off the red-hot, prickling feeling that came with being watched. You couldn't very well hold your ears and look like a fool, now could you? All their voices, their snickering little murmurs, snaked into his mind and writhed like snakes. They echoed around his heads like a harsh scolding delivered by Lucius and Narcissa. Awful.

"Let's just go to the Apothecary and then go. Ice cream, we can just get at home." He muttered in Astoria's ear. She sent a despairing glance at Fortescue's, before nodding her head quickly and tightening her fingers against Draco's.

The Apothecary in sight, Draco glued his eyes to the sign, a potions bottle emblazoned in white wood, and quickened his pace. He stopped at the broad doors, and glanced around irritably to try and ward off any eavesdroppers. Right before he turned to enter, his eyes locked with someone else's.

His breath catching in his throat, gray met blue as Draco found himself staring at the one-and-only Luna Lovegood. She gazed at him, her soft hair falling in white ringlets around her face, her crystal eyes clouded with shock and grief. She had stopped in her tracks, fingers loosely curled around a suitcase, and was watching. Just watching.

His world came crashing down around him.

...

A twelve-year old Draco pushed haughtily through the small gaggle of first-years, sending students scattering left-and-right. Crabbe and Goyle trailed unsurely behind, sending the occasional shove at a straggler. The leader of the group smirked and tugged his robes around his neck. It felt incredible to be dominant over a whole year of people. He couldn't wait until he was king of the school.

As Goyle sent a last kick at a brunette Ravenclaw, and the short-lived battle had been won. It was enough to elicit a laugh from Draco. Their expressions of absolute terror (especially when they caught sight of the memorable features of a Malfoy) were absolutely ridiculous.

"Hah, did you see their faces?" He jeered, taking a moment to revel in his success. The hall was barren of people, excepting the Slytherin trio. "So stupid! C'mon, we have to get to potions now-"

"Excuse me? I don't think you're allowed to do that." Draco let out a small, traitorous yelp and whirled around. A petite, delicate looking girl had seemingly materialized right behind him, somehow without a sound. Her silky-blue robes were enough to indicate she was a Ravenclaw, and judging by her miniscule size- (Draco couldn't help but compare her to a fairy) she was only first year. Her wild-and-curly, white-blonde hair was pulled back in childish pigtails.

"Wh-? How-"

"Luna Lovegood." The girl chirped in a dreamy, trance-like voice. She extended a hand. Draco didn't take it. He was too busy staring angrily at her face, trying to remember if he had seen it before. He didn't recall anything.

"Why-"

"I don't think you're allowed to do that." She repeated, somehow cutting him off. That milky, whimsical tone somehow managed to be louder than his angry squawk. It was infuriating. Draco growled, balling his hands into fists.

"Listen, you-"

"Pushing down first-years is mean. So is doing it to any other student. Professor Flitwick said-"

"I don't care what Professor Flitwick said!" Draco finally growled. Luna frowned, her crystal-blue eyes clouding with genuine sorrow.

"Oh." She said sadly. "I'll go, then." Draco let out an angry hiss, running after her. Goyle beat him to it, his neanderthal hands grabbing at her oversized sleeves and whirling her around. She let out a soft cry and kicked out her nimble legs uselessly. Crabbe shuffled his overweight body to them and grabbed her hands, pinning them behind her back. She was held out in front of their leader, as if they were trading her over, like a loaf of bread or a piece of meat. He stopped, looking at her unsurely. There was silence. Then-

"Draco." She said suddenly, looking up at him with wide, certain eyes.

"Yes?" He replied, his hard tone softening ever so slightly, his lips just barely untwisting from their sneer.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Wh-why?"

"Your head is full of nargles."

Draco let out a furious roar, and it was enough for his cronies. They whirled her around again, her arms still pulled behind her back, and started shaking her furiously. Crabbe had just reached out his arm for a good slap, when-

 _BRII-IIII-IIII-IING!_

The bell rang.

"Merlin's saggy-" Draco cursed. "It's the bell!" Goyle and Crabbe dropped their cargo at the same time, fear spreading across their piggy little faces. Recollections of angry lectures from Snape flit through their heads, and in seconds they were both charging like angry bulls toward the classroom. Draco watched them go with a spiteful face, before turning towards Luna.

"You." He spat. "Stay here. Wait for us after class." Then whirled around, with no expectation of her doing so, and ran after them. Luna brushed a lock of hair of her forehead, and blinked a few times.

"Okay!" She chirped after him, and plopped down to the floor, legs crossed. "I'll wait!"

The tiny Ravenclaw stayed in the same position for over an hour. It had turned out that Draco had forgotten completely about their interaction, and had taken a different path to the Common room. After thirty minutes after the bell rang the second time with no Draco, Luna quietly got off the floor and skipped to the Astronomy tower alone.

…

It was Hogsmeade weekend.

Scratch that.

It was _the_ Hogsmeade weekend, Draco's _first_ Hogsmeade weekend, the very Hogsmeade weekend that Draco would be trying his first sip of butterbeer. And if butterbeer was like anything the fourth-year students had bragged about- (and he certainty hoped it _was_ ) he would be experiencing the ride of his life.

He was already licking his lips in anticipation.

It really was perfect too. It was the absolute best Sunday to try it. Hogsmeade was blanketed in a thick carpet of icy, fluffy, crunchy snow, and the air was frigid enough to keep the few snowflakes that spiraled down from the bleak, gray sky still frozen on your robe-sleeve.

Although, right now, it really was giving Draco some trouble as he tried to walk through it.

"Merlin, this winter business is harder then I remembered it." He grumbled, heaving a boot-clad foot out of a snow-bank. Crabbe and Goyle let out a few hearty guffaws behind him, and he whirled around to glare. The forced-mirthful expressions on their faces froze and melted into their original passive ones. They had mistaken his scathing remark as a joke. Neanderthals.

It was starting to snow again, cascading down in light flurries that stung like sand when the wind whipped them. The air bit against Draco's face, dappling his nose and cheeks a bright red. He mumbled, pulling his robes against him. His special-tailored fur collar was soaked with snow, as was his matching fur hat. They were made especially of black fox-fur, and they had kept him warm for the former part of the trip. But now they were sopping in ice-water, looking like identical bedraggled messes. Even his charmed-gloves felt useless, (though they were helping a lot more then he realized).

"There! The bar!" Draco yelled against the rising wind. The trio shuffled through the snow-crusted doors, and it was like being hit with a wave of heat. The roaring fire that danced in the fireplace, mixed with the various heat-charms that cloaked the much elder witches and wizards immediately washed them over with warmth. Draco sniffed- both from appreciation, and from the previous cold. The whole place was lively, dancing in tones of orange and red.

"Better. Much." He mumbled, pulling off his gloves and stretching his numbed fingers in front of the fire. The hat was the next to go, and then the robes, until he was only in his Hogwarts uniform. The quickly-melting snow that had crystallized his hair in chunks of ice was washing away the gel from his hair. For the first-time in what felt like forever, it hung… messy, around his his cold-stained face. For those brief moments, he looked like a normal Hogwarts student.

"Ahhh." He sighed, draping his garments over the back of a table Goyle had reserved. Said boy was already slumped down in his chair, stripping down like Draco had previously done. Crabbe had snatched a menu off a table while the couple occupying it wasn't looking- he was currently staring at it wistfully. Draco sneered, seeing his cronies had already settled down. He knew from experience they weren't getting up. It was up to him to order the drinks.

"Bartender!" He called loudly, walking up to the counter behind a girl with curly, white-blonde hair. As he tapped impatiently on the shiny surface, he glanced over at her. After a second of dully staring, he did a double-take.

The girl was staring listlessly ahead of her, a faint smile playing on her lips. Her crystal-blue eyes were half-lidded and dreamy, and her head was rested on her palm. Her flyaway hair was forced into two pigtails that lay in front of her instead of sticking straight out- part of the reason he had not at first recognize her. Her ears were clasped with fluffy black earmuffs that looked like two bunnies had latched onto the side of her head and died, they were so oddly puffy and misshapened.

"Luna?" Draco asked incredulously, the name finding its way onto his tongue. He hadn't encountered her since first year, but he had definitely seen her- loony, loony, Luna, the weirdo, the freak. Even the Ravenclaws were repelled by her. She glanced over at him strangely, winding a blonde curl around her finger.

"Draco." She replied easily, in a soft, lilting tone. It was the same as it was one year ago. Dreamy, and murmuring, and _loony._ Her nickname was fitting. "You look human." He bristled up at the statement. Such an odd, loony statement too. She didn't bother saying he looked different. Just… human. Did he normally not look human? He wondered.

"You shouldn't be here." He said bluntly. "Hogsmeade is for third-years. You're only twelve." Pause. "How did you even get here? It must have been impossible to slip by the teachers. McGonagall, Flitwick… Snape…" He waited for an answer. Luna shrugged.

"My dad thought that Hogsmeade was for second-years. He messaged me this morning telling me to tell describe to him what this butterbeer tasted like." Her eyes gleamed. "It was too late to send him a reply. I'd hate to let him down." Draco glared at her.

"Yeah, but how did you _get_ here!?" He cried. He glared down at his hands, and pulled at his fingers angrily. "That should be impossible! I've tried, and-"

"I was following nargles. I've yet to see any in person, but I can sense them." She stared down frustratedly at her hands. "It's my mission to see them in person. It must happen!" There was an intensity behind her voice that startled Draco. The feeling behind it nearly cut through her whimsical tone. He blinked at her, and felt an impatient anger writhe in her stomach.

"Yeah, yeah, Loony, I get it. Gotta try and catch the tooth-fairy, am I right?" He snarled, colouring his tone with sarcasm. He narrowed his eyes. He really had to treat her like she deserved. He was just so stunned to find her here… Luna seemed unaffected by the insult, however.

"There were two boys with their heads full of nargles, talking about whether they should tell Harry Potter about a secret passage. They mentioned what it was." She didn't say anything else. No mention about _what_ the secret passage. But Draco didn't care about that. He was much more focused on another part of the sentence.

"POTTER!?" He yelled. The bar quieted, a sea of eyes flicking over to the pair. "Potter. Why Potter, of all people? That arrogant, good-for-nothing blood-traitor…" Luna gave him a long stare.

"You should know I don't at all support your prejudices, and though I am a pureblood-" She started seriously, hardening her lilted tone. Draco waved her off.

"Yeah, yeah, Loony." He said carelessly. The bar began to fill with the laughing conversations of the surrounding people, as the bar's occupants quickly forgot about Draco's shout. He leaned against the counter, lost in thought, shifting his aching legs listlessly.

"Butterbeer for the Missy!" The bartender roared, waltzing up to the pair of them, spinning a silver platter around his finger like a pizza. An amber bottle of butterbeer was stacked on top, whizzing around with perfect balance. Luna clapped her hands like a small child, lost in his theatrics. He set them down with a thud, sending a cheeky wink at the blonde-haired girl.

"For your wonderful warning from earlier." He guffawed, uncorking the bottle for her. She smiled at him, wrapping her fingers around the bottle.

"Oh, thank you! Dust trolls are a very serious pest, and they attack stores like yours quite frequently. It is very important for you to take action to save such a wonderful bar." She said earnestly, taking a long sip from her butterbeer. A happy sigh quickly followed, and the chuckling bartender waltzed away to take some other orders. Draco stared at her. Her pale cheeks had flushed a rosy red, as had her nose, and the smile that curved across her face was immense. She had her hands splayed across her stomach, and she was giggling almost as much as Pansy.

No, that was impossible. _No_ one giggled as much as Pansy.

"Give me your butterbeer." The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, but he didn't regret saying them. The look of bewilderment she gave him was almost normal, instead of an alien smile, or dreamy stare.

"I paid for it." Her tone wasn't argumentative, just confused. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she looked as though she were contemplating whether or not the, "If you buy it, you pay it," rule had magically changed overnight. Draco just stared at the amber bottle she had clutched in her hand.

"Yes, but I want it." He said rudely, licking his lips. Luna looked at him. "If you let me have it, I'll only drink half and buy another bottle for you." Her eyes brightened, and she took a thoughtful sip. His stomach growled. Was she _taunting_ him?

"That's an interesting trade." She mumbled. Crystal-blue irises swirled with interest. "I accept." Draco didn't let her say anything else before snatching the amber bottle from her hands. He recoiled- it felt oddly warm against his hands. Like someone had gushed it full of hot tap water.

"It's good." Luna said dreamily. "Try it." Draco hesitated, peering down the mouth of the bottle. Frothy liquid sloshed inside, a golden-brown color, like the outside of toasted-marshmallows. He sniffed it tentatively. Delectable. Slowly raising the bottle to his lips, his lashes fluttered closed, and he took a long deep sip.

Brilliant. Brilliant. Absolutely, and positively brilliant. Lucius Malfoy had raised his son to have an extensive and admirable vocabulary, but that was really the only word that could sum up the taste of butterbeer. It slipped down Draco's throat like a warm and bubbly concoction, thick and rich and sweet. In settled hot in his stomach like the way hot cocoa feels after you've swallowed too big a mouthful, but… pleasant somehow. And there were no words that could describe the taste. It was fizzy, and foamy, and thick, and sweet, with the distinct and delicious taste of butterscotch mingled with a hint of milk-chocolate. Before long his 'sip' had turned into a gulp, into chugging the bottle and trying to consume as much of the heavenly liquid as possible.

"So you like it then." Luna's murmuring voice shattered his reverie. He yanked the bottle from his lips, and looked around guiltily. If his father had seen how greedily and piggily he had gulped that down, and having taken the bottle from the school freak as well, the amount of trouble he would be in would be insurmountable. Luna was still staring at him, a small smile quirking up the corners of his lips. Shame heated up his face, and he shoved the bottle at her.

"Here. I left you half." He said brusquely, before realizing almost the entire bottle had disappeared. He blushed, head-to-toe. Then he also realized that he, Draco Malfoy, was blushing in front of Luna Lovegood. And she might take it the wrong way! He openly grimaced at the horror of loony, loopy, Luna thinking he liked her, and liking him _back,_ but somehow that also turned into a blush. He was scarlet now. He was starting to wonder just what was happening, when he realized what he had ingested. _Butterbeer._ He gawped in horror. He was blushing because of the _butterbeer._

"S-sor- _hic!"_ He gasped. "D-did I just… _hic!_ No, no, NO-! _Hic! Hic! Hic!"_ He was hiccuping like crazy now, keeling over the counter and gasping for air as his stomach pleaded for mercy. Sending a horrified glance at Luna, he got to his feet and ran out if the bar as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Where are you going?" Luna asked curiously. She, of course, met no response. "I'll just wait for you then." So she folded her hands in her lap, and crossed her legs under her, and waited.

Draco never came.

…

Christmas was a merry, merry time. Well, perhaps not entirely for Draco.

He had heard all about what Christmas was 'supposed' to be. You know, dangling plants that force people to kiss each other regardless of gender, people trespassing onto other people's property demanding pudding, getting completely out of shape with a bunch of unhealthy, tasteless treats, yada yada yada, ' _fun.'_

Lucius' version of Christmas was a lot better. No mistletoe, no caroling, no disgusting cookies cut into weird shapes. Better. Obviously. Pansy had already jumped Draco at least twice, trying to shove him under some enchanted mistletoe. Needless to say, it was not his favorite plant in the world.

He was avoiding her now, actually.

Draco dodged a runaway trolley, and ducked behind a herd of stampeding witches chasing after it. He stopped, panting, leaning against his luggage-cart, and peered through the crowd to catch sight of his father.

Draco was at platform 9 ¾, waiting for his father to apparate in and lead him away from all the muggles and havoc. What made it worse was that the station was festively decorated, draped in garlands of strung-popcorn and thistle, and brightened by floating, bobbing, neon lights that danced through the air. Bunches of mistletoe hung from all doorways, blooming and shedding tiny white flowers whenever the people they had ensnared kissed. A couple of old crones were selling peanut-brittle. And, he was being chased by Pansy.

"DRACO! WAIT! I NEED TO GIVE YOU MY CHRISTMAS GIFT!" The moronic girl screeched, shoving aside an elderly couple to see him. He leaped to his feet, preparing to run, but it was too late. She had already grabbed onto the Slytherin scarf that he had wrapped securely around his neck, and if he made a run for it, there was a good chance he'd be strangled.

"Pansy." He said stiffly, tensing his spine. She was beaming up at him now, fluttering her brown eyes, and clutching a present in her hands. Suddenly becoming shy, she wiggled her shoulders and tenderly reached out the gift. He took it grudgingly, running his fingers over the creases. It was wrapped incredibly, in green-and-silver. He felt the unmistakable shape of a heart, and while he inwardly groaned, his mouth began running at the thought of chocolates.

"Thank you Pansy." He said through his saliva. "It looks really delici- ahh, amazing." Her shy smile brightened into a grin, and she hopped up and down eagerly, her black bob bouncing.

"REALLY?" She screamed. "THANK YOU!" He flinched at her exclamation, and ducked down to avoid being seen by any possible approaching father. When he looked up at her, a sly smile was spreading across her pale face like hot butter on toast.

"Pansy," He warned, but she was already reeling him in, tugging his head down with his scarf to capture her lips, and-

"Draco?" A cold, silky-smooth voice snarled, cutting through the surrounding hubbub. Draco felt an inexplicable twinge of panic thrum in his chest, and he was up and running, sprinting to the door as fast as he could. He had to be as far away from Pansy as possible when his father caught sight of him. But she was running after him, flapping her hands desperately to try and catch his scarf again.

"Draco, wait!" She moaned, tripping over her large boots in an attempt to catch up with him. Draco ignored her, dashing furiously to the first place he could think of- the exit. He was nearly there, about to sprint through the tall archway. He had barely noticed a petite girl with flowing, curly white-blonde hair standing directly under it, a secretive smile on her face.

"DRACO!" Pansy shrieked, horror evident in her voice. Draco fell back, choking, as he felt his scarf constrict like a snake around his neck, slicing off his oxygen supply and filling his throat with fire. He whirled around, gasping for air, in an attempt to to scream bloody murder, but the Slytherin girl was staring at him as though _she_ was the hero.

"P-Pansy, wha-!?"

"YOU nearly had to KISS Loony Lovegood!" She cried out angrily. Draco's face went blank. He slowly turned around to look at the blonde-haired girl. The small smile had slipped off her face, and the look in her crystal-blue eyes was one of… betrayal. She was frowning at him, angrily and sorrowfully, and he couldn't understand why. He glanced up at the garland of mistletoe dangling from the top of the arch, noticing without noticing that the milky-white flowers that had already started blooming at his arrival had shriveled up, shedding withered petals.

"Draco." A cold voice snarled beside them. Draco barely contained a shrill squeak, as his father whipped behind him. He placed a cool, clammy hand on his son's shoulder. "What's all this nonsense about who kissing who?" Draco cringed, waiting for Pansy's indignant outburst on how she heroically saved him from snogging a blood-traitor, when another voice joined the discussion.

"Yes, yes? Whom kissing whom? A bit young for that, arent we?" A voice chortled. A slightly overweight man, with shocking yellow hair that brushed past his shoulder and horrific magenta robes grinned broadly at the four of them. He was panting, as though he had run a long distance, though his crystal-blue eyes were dancing with a never-ending amusement. Draco blinked at him, disgust darkening his gray eyes. Who, he thought with a sneer, could ever be _shameful_ enough to have a father as idiotic that?

"Father!" A soft, wind-blown voice giggled. Her face once again cheery, Luna Lovegood slipped past Draco and glided into an embrace with her father. He blinked.

"Should have known…"

"What's that, Draco?" Lucius' high, cold voice cut into him like a knife. Draco immediately dropped his head down, pale cheeks coloring with shame. When he glanced up through his lashes, he saw Luna staring at him curiously.

"Merlin, I've heard of mood-swings, but this is ridiculous." Draco mumbled, barely whispering as to not alert his father. He felt his gut twist as he the hand around his shoulder tightened.

"So, Lucius," Luna's father gabbed, "what's that you were telling me about that Quidditch match?" A sorrowful expression crossed his features. "Terrible, wasn't it? Death Eaters running rampant, _everywhere?"_ Draco sucked in a sharp breath, and waited for Lucius to explode. He looked up, wincing as his father's lip curled into a sneer. He looked vaguely amused.

"Anyway," Mr. Lovegood said cheerily, conjuring an onion from his pocket. Draco recoiled in disgust as the oaf took an actual bite of it. "It's turned out to be a most successful report on the Quibbler. It's going places, my man Lucius, it's going places!" He said through a mouthful of onion.

"Mmm."

"I swear, business is booming, ever since we scribbled up an essay on that Potter boy-"

" _Mmm._ "

"Draco's in the same year as him, isn't he? Marvelous." He turned his unblinking blue eyes to Draco. "Say, young chap, how about getting us a private interview, hm? A look in the life of Harry Potter-"

"Xenophilius, we've really ought to be going." Mr. Malfoy had had enough. The hand that held Draco's shoulder was now an iron vice. Feeling his tensed muscles relaxed, Draco closed his eyes and waited for the sickening twist that came with apparition-

"Draco, I've gotten you a Christmas present." Lucius let his hand fall, and Draco was still on firm ground. He opened one eye, and saw with horror Loony Lovegood, handing him a wrapped-gift, smiling in that idiotic way of hers. He took it reluctantly, and stared at the package. The wrapping was horrid. Bits of spellotape barely managed to hold down the thick paper, leaving a huge, bumbling mess in place of a present. The actual paper itself was even worse- a rich fuchsia patterned with green radishes and speckled with spots of yellow and light blue.

He opened his mouth instinctively, ready to blurt out the most cruel, spiteful thing he could think of- when he felt his father's gaze dig into his back like cold nails. He closed his mouth.

"How lovely, Loon- Luna." He said in the coldest voice he could muster. Mr. Lovegood was still beaming like a cheery fool. His daughter sported an identical expression. "I'm sure I'll love it." He groped the lumpy shape that hid under the wrapping, and felt his stomach turn to ice as he recognized the distinct shape of a butterbeer bottle. His upper lip involuntarily curled.

"Really?" Loony whispered dreamily. She was staring at him, not seeming to care that Pansy had a fish-face she was so in shock, nor that said Slytherin was glaring at her with the fire of a thousand suns. No, she was only looking at Draco. And it unnerved him to no extent.

"Ehm… yes." He said cautiously, beginning to worry. "And… don't worry. I have a gift for you too." Luna brightened up so suddenly, her smile as radiant as the sun. He shielded his eyes from the light.

" _Really?_ " She said in a breathy voice, eyes bright, more watery with happiness then they ever should be in the presence of Draco Malfoy. And she wouldn't stop staring. And Mr. Lovegood wouldn't stop beaming. And Lucius wouldn't stop glaring.

"Yes." He lied, glaring down at his fur-trimmed boots. "It's so big, it'll take a while to… deliver." And he backed ever so slightly into his father, and it was enough. Lucius grabbed Draco's arm- (His nails biting into thick fleece)- and was just about ready to whisk the two of them away for some questioning, when Loony, ( _curse her!_ ) spoke up again.

"When should I expect it?"

Draco spared her a glance, forcing his face from scowling.

"I don't know just yet. Just…" He hesitated. "Just wait for it."

And with a sickening wrench, the two had twisted into nothingness.

Luna was smiling. It still had that odd, dreamy look to it, but even her father couldn't overlook that it was, (even marginally), bigger than usual. Bigger, and brighter, and even more wistful. Xenophilius Lovegood couldn't help but chuckle as the grin never left his daughter's face as she apparated away to their humble little abode. And, after concluding that everything was all well and good, he threw himself into his search for the impossible, not noticing that everyday Luna's smile fell just a little bit more and more.

Because every day, Luna waited.

And Draco's present never came.

…

Draco had always considered himself the most eligible bachelor of Hogwarts.

I mean- look at him.

He had Pansy hanging off his every word. He had that Greengrass girl… (Anastasia her name was…?) shooting him blushes across the Slytherin table every day. Millicent went slack jawed around him, that Gryffindor Eloise got sweaty palms, and he was even pretty sure Loony Lovegood liked him.

Though that notion just freaked him out to no extent.

He didn't know why… He was okay with _Pansy_ mooning over him! What was another freak to add to the collection? But every time he glanced at the loon, his stomach filled, with slimy, cold worms that wouldn't stop wriggling. If he didn't know how, how… how _idiotic_ that girl was, he'd suspect she had hexed him.

He was still angrily mulling over the whimsical blonde as he patrolled the corridors. His temper was on the rise- he had already told off a terrified Hufflepuff first-year, and subtracted points from a Gryffindor. Normally this would have eased the tension that was building on his back- a heavy uncomfortable pressure that felt like someone had placed a weight on his shoulders. But for some reason, performing his duties (albeit unfairly) had the opposite effect.

In fact, ever since he joined the Inquisitorial squad, he felt an astonishing amount of guilt settle in his stomach like a rock.

"You there. Five points off Ravenclaw." He snapped irritably, pointing accusingly to a figure with wind-blown blonde hair and silky-blue robes. She didn't turn her back, but stiffened and jumped in surprise, like a deer caught in headlights. Draco sneered, getting ready to continue on his way, when a small voice made him stop in his tracks.

"You never gave me a gift." A snarl curling his upper lip, Draco slowly turned to face Luna Lovegood. Her tone held no accusation, but was weighed down with sorrow, and it sounded as though Draco had committed a far more heinous crime than not returning a Christmas gift. You would think he had murdered her cat, or something.

"You do realize I was just lying to save face, right?" He said, trying to smirk but ending up fidgeting uncomfortably. Luna frowned slightly.

"Yes, I suppose that's the conclusion I came across after a week of waiting." She murmured in her sing-song tone, her face going blank. "What brings you to roam these lonely corridors?" He gave her a long, hard stare.

"I'm prefect." He replied simply. A frown crossed his features. Had she really not noticed him enough to see that?

"Oh."

"But of _course_ you would have known that."

"No."

"... Well." Draco hissed out, feeling unreasonably displeased. Luna was looking up at him now, her crystal-blue eyes sparkling with something that looked akin to hope.

"Does that bother you?"

"NO!" He said with a little too much force. "Umm… I mean no. Just no." He said flatly.

"Oh." Luna said again, looking sad. Draco glared at her for a few minutes. This girl - this stupid little fourth-year with her silly fantasies and disorientating jewelry - had given him far too much grief than he had warranted for. This girl - with her half-witted mind and disgusting naievety - needed to be taken down a notch.

"You disgust me." He settled with. Luna blinked up at him, surprised.

"What?"

"I said you disgust me. I see you've befriended the Mudblood-loving trio." He glared down at her, eyes blazing. "I always knew you were stupid. I always knew you were ridiculous. But at least you ad the decency to stay pure, to not allow yourself to become muddied up by the lesser-kind." He towered over her threateningly, and felt an inexplicable twist of remorse as he saw her eyes growing bright. A sure sign tears were coming.

"Draco, stop." She pleaded, breaking out of, for the first time, her lilting tone. But it was back again just as quickly. "The nargles in your head are growing angry- they'll start to do you harm-"

"YOU'VE DISGRACED YOUR FAMILY! DISGRACED YOUR NAME- OW!" Draco hissed, slapping his hand to his head as he felt a pang of pain explode in his brain. Luna bobbed her head up and down in an agreeable sort of fashion.

"Ah yes. The nargles are attacking. Pity really. It'll get worse. Should I go fetch some hot tea? It will put you on agreeable terms with them before we start eradication." All her previous sorrows had gone down the drain, she only looked curious and vaguely excited.

" _No._ " Draco hissed, massaging his temples. "Anyway, you are a- ERG!" Another twinge of fire rippled through his mind. Luna frowned, assessing the situation. Draco scowled at her fiercely. It looked as though Granger was starting to rub off on her.

"They're only getting worse, you know." She said matter-of-factly. "You need tea."

"I don't want ruddy tea!" Draco protested furiously. "I need the blooming hospital wing."

"I've never seen an outbreak this bad since Aunt Dugglydunk told father Snorwacks weren't real. The Lovegoods and nargles are on good terms, you see. I reckon we please them." She rambled on, plopping down to to the floor and criss-crossing her legs.

"So, then, what exactly do you propose we do about it?" He spat out. Draco winced, hand firmly clasped to his forehead. Luna cocked her head, a wispy blonde curl falling into her eyes.

"Sit here." She patted the ground softly, and some inexplicable force coaxed him into settling down by her. He would later suppose it was mostly out of delirium- he clearly wasn't in a right state of mind. Pounding headaches did do things to a person.

"Loony, I don't see how this is helping." He said impatiently. "I should really just be going to the hospital-wing. I'm sure they could take care of this migraine." Luna frowned at him.

"The nargles do not appreciate being mistaken for trivial ailments of health." She said sadly. He sighed loudly, pondering just what set of unfortunate circumstances had led him into this mess. He vaguely recalled a flash of red hair and a collection of sniggers, and immediately suspected a well-aimed hex coming spiralling from the Weasley twins.

Much as he hated to admit it, the ruddy siblings were the only members of the Weasels he had any respect, (even grudgingly) for.

"Why were you even here in the first place?" He asked in a resigned tone, settling with small talk to try and move this whole ordeal along. Luna looked at him, surprised. Draco inwardly cringed at the two blood-red radishes dangling from her ears, jangling as she moved her head. Another look awarded him another lapse of surprise as his eyes traveled to the selection of butterbeer caps she had strung together into a necklace. The Ravenclaw seemed quite taken with continuously mocking him of that time at the bar those few years ago.

"I was searching for my shoes." She said in that windswept voice. He readied a retort, then glanced down at her feet and stared at her bare, pink toes wiggling in the freezing air. A flash of a memory regarding Seamus, a Gryffindor boy, playing hostage to a pair of fuschia boots darted through his brain, and he felt an unexpected surge of anger.

"You were, were you?"

"Oh yes." She continued obliviously. "All my things seem to be disappearing lately. I suspect clothes-pixies."

"Right, right."

"-Or perhaps some more dust-trolls, I really ought to be cleaning out my wardrobe-"

"How exactly did you meet Potter and the muggle-lovers?" Luna regarded him with an icy stare. The (hardly) formidable look quickly melted off her face, however, and she continued on happily.

"We were just chatting about how we could both see the thestrals, and-"

"You can see thestrals?" Draco was surprised. He thought he and Potter would be one of the spare few to be unfortunate enough to catch sight of the ghastly, winged horses. That bloody Gryffindor had his blood-traitorous, deceased mum and dad, and deaths to Draco were as common as Sunday brunch with his father being a Death Eater. But he had never suspected whimsical little Loony to have witnessed something like that.

"Oh yes. My mum you know, died when I was little." A fond look glazed over her eyes. "I remember her dearly. She was ever-so-nice, and I miss her so, but she passed doing what she loved." Draco gaped at her as she rambled on. "I was nine, you see, and had just gotten back from collecting five-leaf clovers. I had ran into the kitchen and she was sat, all pale, on the counter, her wand hanging loosely from her hand and a hole the size of Neptune through her heart. One of her spells had gone wrong, you know she just loved to experiment, and it had blasted her straight through."

"Loony, I don't-"

"Yes, well," Luna chattered on pleasantly, "at first I was right scared when I checked the pulse and there was no heartbeat. Cried myself to sleep for weeks."

"Luna-"

"But," She continued on relentlessly, "and I'll never forget this- even when I found her dead, she had this happy little smile on her face because it really was only one bad spell and she had had so many good ones, and when your life is so good you can't really complain when it's cut off short." She took a deep breath, done with her explanation. Draco stared at her. He had never heard another thing more heartfelt, and it gave him a pang in his chest when he realized all the lives his father had took, that perhaps they weren't finished with life yet. Maybe they just had one more thing to do, maybe they just wanted to kiss their loved ones goodbye, and they hadn't gotten the chance.

"Oh!" Luna remarked, clapping her hands together. "The tea! I ought to be getting that. You'll wait here won't you?" Draco didn't respond, just nodded. For the first time (and definitely not the last) his entire world came crashing down around him.

That was how Umbridge found him- curled up thoughtfully on the stone floor, his head cradled in one hand, staring off into the distance with an unusually Luna-like look to his eyes.

" _Draco Malfoy, get up immediately and join the Inquisitorial Squad! Your badge has been beeping for the past five minutes, our targets have been apprehended."_ She had hissed, and Draco obliged without a second thought.

The spot he had been sitting was still warm when Luna stumbled in the corridor, awkwardly supporting a large kettle of steaming tea and a few china cups.

…

It was New Year's.

Somehow, the very name seemed to offend Draco.

He wasn't sure what it was he had against the Holidays- he loathed Christmas with a passion, after all. It just seemed to him that festivities were pointless, and that the New Year only symbolized what negativities that could befall him. What wrongs he could do, how exactly he could screw up. Maybe it was just anxiety.

Anxiety mixed with the fact he was forced to stay at Hogwarts when he could be very well reclining in a cozy chair at the manor, being waited on by a house elf.

Draco wasn't sure to expect once he became a Death Eater. What with his father's loyalty, it may have as well been a family tradition. What he certainly _hadn't_ wished for was being held against his will to stay at a school he hated, just so he could fix a vanishing cabinet. The thought that he had to be transporting a handful of Death Eaters in made him queasy. He had met his Aunt Bellatrix, and the thought of her rampaging around the castle was enough to make anyone sick.

Draco stretched back in the plush green sofa of the Slytherin common room, and twiddled a ring in between his fingers. It was a Christmas gift from said psychotic aunt. A way to remind him constantly of his loyalty to the Dark lord. He took a good look at it- silver, of only the highest quality, forged in the form of a snake wrapping around his finger. Shards of emerald made up beady eyes.

"How typical." He mumbled idly to himself, slipping it back on his finger. As he shifted positions again, he realized with a start the sleeve of his silky black robes had become pushed up his arm. The edge of the Dark Mark peeked over the hem, emblazoned clearly on his creamy skin for anyone to see. He quickly shoved it back up, and glanced warily around the Common room.

His eyes locked with Blaise Zabini.

Draco glared, and glanced away. The estrangement of his best mate had revolved entirely on his becoming of a Death Eater. Blaise may have been a Slytherin, but he was the odd one out of the lot, the aversion to all snake-ey stereotypes. He was no blind follower to the Dark lord, and Draco's family had seen to it he was well and out of Draco's life. It was unnecessary- Blaise was out the door as soon as he had caught sight of the infamous snake-and-skull.

The sixth-year was no staring at Draco with a sad smile. It was clearly making the blonde uncomfortable. When he didn't stop, Draco let out a loud huff, grabbed his books, and stormed out of the room. His gaze fell to his boots as soon as he had exited.

Being away from Blaise was ghastly. He was the only boy he was allowed to know who wasn't obsessed with the usual pureblood-mania. Listening to him converse about new things was refreshing.

He wondered if Bellatrix would approve.

It was severely doubtful.

There was another thought plaguing his mind as well. Not really one that trifled with his everyday life, but rather haunted his dreams, darting into his subconscious in the midst of the common Death Eater nightmare.

This thought was Luna Lovegood.

It was remarkable, Draco couldn't help but think, that you could, in just one moment, look at someone you've always known and seen them in a whole new light. The stupid fact was that Loony was _pretty,_ even when he desperately didn't want her to be. He wished this was first year, when he could just go back to hating her. He had managed to convince himself, however, that this was merely infatuation. It was only her body he admired, for her personality was just positively dotty.

Though, the absolute craziness was just as renewing as Blaise's casual banter was.

"Oh dear. I always seem to like the worst people." He mulled tiredly. "First I befriend Blaise, who has _once dated a muggle._ " He stopped, gasping as he realized once again the sheer audacity of it. How dare he! It was rather well off he wasn't mates with that ruddy half-wit anymore. "Then," He continued mumbling, "I form a grudging respect for those Weasel twins." He recoiled once more at his words. He was starting to suspect there was something wrong with himself, not just Blaise. "And then, I bloody become attracted to-"

"Who?"

Draco let out a shrill yelp and nearly jumped out of his shoes. He whirled around, gasping for breath to see Luna Lovegood standing before him. He sighed, running a hand blearily through his hair. It seemed the tattoo on his inner-left arm had left him more jumpy than he could have ever imagined.

"To no one, Loony." He snapped, quickly smoothing out the hair he had mussed. She rose an eyebrow, and fell into stride with him. Oh, how this girl was irritating.

"To no one? Isn't that impossible?" She mused.

"Funny, and I thought you believed anything rumoured impossible."

There was silence.

"That wasn't very nice, Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco sighed, slowly turning to face the Ravenclaw. She was staring up at him, a hint of mischief quirking up the ends of her mouth and sparkling in her crystal-blue eyes. He inwardly cursed himself when he couldn't look away. She really was very pretty.

Her hair was remarkably similar to his own. So blonde it was white, and wispy thin, falling in soft curls and delicate ringlets. Her face was milky-white, as pure as the moon, but features were child-like. Button nose, constant smile, wide eyes always curious. Unnerving.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating the festivities? The fireworks are going off in," He checked his watch idly, "fifteen minutes. Surely you wouldn't want to miss the start of a new year?" He threw in a bit of sarcasm to ward her away from the idea he was being nice. She didn't seem to notice.

"Fireworks attract Wrackspurts. I'm afraid they're the ones guilty for my missing garments, and I don't want to lose my shoes again. It's December… well, will be January in fourteen minutes, but for now it's December and the stone floor is frigid." She babbled, swing her arms childishly

. Yes, Draco thought, glancing at her. She was ridiculous. It was merely her body that was attractive. There was no way in Merlin he fancied her.

"The Slytherin Common room is a better place to celebrate."

"Really? I've never been."

Ignoring the fact that it would have been slightly worrying if Luna _had_ been by his dormitories, Draco threw himself into the description of his marvelous living space.

"... and everything is bathed in this beautiful, soothing green light that just radiates down from the lake above, and brings with it a breath of fresh air, and the slight and oddly appetizing scent of algae…"

"...The Ravenclaw common room is circular, lined with book-shelves that are positively infested with dust-trolls, adorned with plush blue sofas that I'm sure I saw turn into a Crumple-horned Snorkack and run away for a second, I once saw a flash of a nargle whip through the air…"

"... everything is different shades of green, like a rhythmic repetition, a lulling collage…"

"...I'm sure I saw Eliona Firkinson smuggle in some Wrackspurts to the dormitories. Punishable by death from raging Heliopaths, that is a horrible offense…"

"... Loony, shut the bugger up and let me finish."

"Just wait till I tell my father!" Luna cried out triumphantly, shaking her fist in the air. Draco watched her, sighing a bit. She really was an odd girl. Whenever he looked at her, he felt those traitorous slimy worms, though this time they seemed hot. Like if you've eaten spaghetti too fast and it burns up your stomach in an oddly pleasant and satisfying way.

"Luna?" He asked softly, studying her face.

"Mm?"

"One minute till New Year's."

She looked at him, hope swirling in her icy blue irises.

"Really?" She took a step closer. This time Draco couldn't pull away. The worms were writhing, and he was mesmerized.

"Mm-hmm." She took another step, and their noses were barely an inch of part. Somehow her face looked even more devastatingly beautiful up close.

"Thirty seconds." He mumbled. Luna nodded, and slipped her hand in his. He barely noticed, but tightened around it reflexively. She was smiling now, not smugly like most girls when they knew they had him stunned, but just happily. Like all was right in the world.

"Fifteen." She piped up, letting out a tinkling laugh. He rose an eyebrow and glanced down at his watch.

"Ten." He corrected, his voice embarrassingly breathy.

"Eight."

"Six."

"Five."

"Four."

"Three!"

"Two…"

"One-mmph!"

There was the distant sound of fireworks.

Draco wasn't sure what possessed him to kiss her, but as his lips met hers, he knew he didn't regret it. It wasn't a huge kiss, barely a brushing of the lips for his standards, but it was so perfectly amazing. So horribly intoxicating. He barely found the strength to pull away.

She was staring at him. He was staring at her. He found his cheeks burning, and he thought he saw a light dusting of pink color hers as well. He leaned away further, shame and regret starting to churn his stomach. What had he done?! He swiped a tongue over his lips. She tasted of peppermint-toads and… butterbeer.

It was this realization that snapped him out of his daze. Consumed with horror, he reeled back, ripping his hand out of hers, and started running. He didn't care where, he was just… running.

"Draco…?" A timid voice, choked with worry, called after him. He ignored it, his feet pounding harshly on the stone-floor. He had to get away.

And so Luna Lovegood was left, crystalline tears sliding down her pale face, the floor hard underneath her. She wrapped her arms around her head and cried.

"It was supposed to go well…" She whimpered. "He was supposed to love me back…" She intertwined her fingers, starting as she felt something silver and cold press in between them. She peered into her cupped hands. A silver ring, made into a coil of a snake with gleaming green eyes, sat in her palm. She vaguely recalled Draco wearing something silver around her finger, and she straightened up, still sniffling.

"It came off when he ripped away his hand from mine." She said with a hiccup. She stared at it. Luna knew she should be the bigger woman, to throw the ring away, or give it back to Draco. But she couldn't help it. The delicate little thing ignited a fire of determination that seemed to surge through her. With that flash of hope, she slipped the ring on, got to her feet, and continued on her way.

…

It was a perfect summer day.

The sky was that perfect shade of robin's egg blue, shot through with a few puffs of wispy clouds. The sun was bright, casting a glow of warmth over the rippling fields of grass in which the Lovegoods were situated. Luna sat delicately in the leafy fronds and cattails, inhaling the sweet smell of wild-flowers, and listening to the sing-song babble of the brook.

She slid her eyes open. The water was crystal-clear, and sparkled in the midday sun. It burbled steadily over gleaming, water-polished stones, and gushed over a few beat-down weeds. The sun was hot on her back, heating up her yellow summer dress like a radiator, so she stretched out her legs and dipped her toes into the stream.

"Mmm." She sighed happily. It was at the perfect temperature- cold, but not like ice. She shuffled forward until the water went up to her ankles, and she wriggled her toes in the current. Beside them, a few persistent minnows shot forward against it, falling back a few moments later and sliding against her foot. After a few leaps, they seemed to retire and let themselves get swept away.

A frigid wind shot through the heat, whipping Luna's ash-blonde locks. She sighed.

"September's coming near." She hummed to herself. "I'll have to leave father again." Her eyes brightened. "But I'll get to see Draco." Luna had seen how he avoided her eyes after the kiss. But it didn't seem as though he was particularly angry at her. She was going to keep in high hopes that everything would turn out alright, that he would like her back. She sighed, squishing out over the grass and trying to squash back the brittle stalks that kept jabbing her. After checking to make sure she wasn't being assaulted by grass-wielding river-nixies, she settled down again.

"I wonder if father will let me join the Order." She whispered dreamily, recollecting flashes of battle-scenes, a fierce woman with shocking-pink hair, and a brave man who gave up his life in the fight. It was a rather frightening thought, dying so early. But then again, Luna had done a lot in the life she had already had. All she needed to really was date and marry Draco Malfoy, see a nargle first-hand, and have children.

She assumed that the nargles bit would be the most time-consuming.

Luna rubbed her hands over the winding snake ring coiled around her pointer-finger. It was made of only the purest of silver, she had come to realize, and the shards of gleaming green in its eyes were actually emerald. She glanced up at a slight slithering sound. It sounded almost like a cloak trailing over grass, and there was the sharp feeling of being watched. She glanced around the field curiously before settling on a small, muddy-brown garter snake that was slipping through the cattails.

"Ahh, hello little thing." She said, cooing. The snake lifted his broad head and flicked its tongue out, staring warily at the smiling girl. "Do not worry. It is just me. I will not hurt you." Her eyes gleamed with interest. "I have heard that snakes are great friends and allies of the Crumple-horned Snorkack." She sidled forward. "Is this true? Oh, on days like this, I wish I was a parseltongue." She let out a soft sigh. The snake glanced up, taking on a look of shock before twisting around and diving into the undergrowth.

A shadow fell over Luna's back.

Blinking curiously, Luna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and peeked around curiously.

"Who is- _EIGH!_ " A hand clamped around her throat, fingers shoving against her windpipe. Fire seared through her esophagus, frying her stomach and lungs, and a wave of nausea crashed over her. Luna's breath left her in a gasp, her eyes rolling back until all she could see was a piercing, aching white. As the white slammed into black, the hand holding Luna's throat dropped, and she was thrown to the ground. A figure loomed over her weakening body, cloaked in robes of black, masked with the face of a skull.

Luna retched, pressed against the sun-baked earth. Her breath left her in wheezes and coughs, each more painful than the last. Bile heaved its way out of her stomach, streaming from her open mouth into the river.

"We got her." The cloaked figure hissed. Another man stepped forward, wearing the same ominous attire.

"She's still conscious."

"Well, knock her out then."

He let out a gruff snarl, before sliding out his wand and twirling it in his hands. After lovingly stroking the smooth wood, he pointed it menacingly at Luna's flailing body.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Luna rose into the air, limbs twitching erratically, before she was slammed to the ground. There was a sickening _crack!_ As her head hit stone, and the river blossomed red.

"Disillusion her, quick, and let's get the hell out of here before poor little Xenophilius comes running." The wand was flicked again, and a wave of silver washed over her unconscious body, melting it to nothingness. The same spell was cast on both Death Eaters, and they bundled up Luna before pocketing their wands and twisting away into apparition.

Exactly an hour later, Xenophilius Lovegood hummed a little tune, before strolling outside to greet his daughter. He had just finished editing a rather hefty article on why exactly Harry Potter was to be trusted, and he was practically bursting with happiness to spend a pleasant evening under the stars with his daughter. It was only a matter of days before she left for Hogwarts, after all. Her coming-of-age was nearly upon her.

Hands stuffed in vibrant-yellow robe pockets, he shuffled out through the fields of grass to the river. His crystal-blue eyes scanned the surroundings. He took another step, ready to call out for his daughter, when he noticed the usually sparkling water of the brook was colored with blood.

A mournful wail pierced the air.

…

Draco felt a rush of dizziness and a surge of cold. He fell to his knees, head in hands.

He couldn't believe it.

It wasn't possible.

" _We've captured the Lovegood girl._ " His father's voice echoed in his ear. " _Until that fool of a man, Xenophilius, manages to capture Harry Potter, she will remain with us. We will torture her. She will die._ " Hand yanked at blonde hair, gray eyes welled with traitorous tears. Draco couldn't remember the last time he cried. He didn't even know _why_ he was so distraught. Who cared about Loony anyway?

Even still, he found himself racing down to the dungeons, wand clasped firmly in hand and a tidal-wave of healing spells flitting through his mind. When he saw her, hunched over and crying on the stone-cold floor, he moved to comfort her. As he placed his hand on her shoulder, she looked up at him through teary eyes.

His heart stopped.

Her face, once as smooth and pale as the moon, was puffed red from crying, riddled with bumps, a large cut slicing up her forehead. Her white-blonde hair was clumped together with dirt, sweat, and grime, tangled beyond belief. Purple bruises in the shape of fingers wrapped around her slender neck. Her clothes were stained with blood and filth, ragged on her starved frame.

He blinked, taking it all in.

She was so horribly beautiful.

"Draco…" She said heavily, her voice beat down to a hush. "I… I'm…"

"Ssh." He said in a choked voice. "I can help you." He waved his sleek black wand, and the blood and dirt was siphoned off her body, the ghastly-looking cut on her head was cleaned. He conjured some ice and pressed it to her bruises, flicked his wand and smoothed out her hair, gave it a twirl and sealed her wound.

"Draco…"

"Press that to your bruises. I'll come down later with some food, you are severely undernourished." He glanced away.

"Draco, why-"

"Goodbye, Luna."

He cleared his face of all emotion and turned his back. His hands trembling just-so-slightly, he walked with purposeful steps towards the door out of the dungeons. Luna watched his retreating figure, yearning to race after him, but the heavy chain cutting off oxygen to her foot told her that would be impossible. Brushing a blonde strand out of her face, Luna Lovegood sighed and curled up onto the ground, puffy cheek pressed into the cool floor.

It was shortly after her falling asleep that Draco walked into the room, clumsily supporting a tray stacked with various food items and a pitcher sloshing with ice-cold pumpkin-juice. He set it down, before staring at the unconscious Luna in surprise.

"Loony…?" He tested, meeting no response. "Luna…?" Letting out an exasperated sigh, he leaned over her, examining her face thoroughly. After checking she had no injuries, he pressed a quick and soft kiss to her forehead, lingering a bit as he tasted the sweetness of her hair and the faint saltiness of perspiration. Wiping his food-stained hands on her robes, he straightened up and made for the door once again.

"Draco." A frail voice called after him. He glanced back, watching as Luna's crystal-blue eyes fluttered open.

"Go to sleep Luna." He said snippily. His eyes softened. "I'll find a way to get you out of this. Just wait for me." Then, mentally slapping himself for making such a promise, he left the room.

Luna lay on the floor, her arms wrapped around her chest, and let out a happy sigh and a smile.

Even in the darkest of times, she could find hope. And Draco liked her back.

…

Luna let out a whimper as the darkness closed around her. The Death Eater stood above her, squawking loudly about blood-traitors and mudbloods, how she was a disgrace to the wizarding-world. She was overwhelmed. A tear slipped down her face, leaving a trail through the grime that caked it. A sharp pain exploded in her ribcage as she was kicked.

"There, you filthy blood-traitor. Let that be a lesson to you. Your father hasn't helped you, how do you feel? Sad? Poor little blood-traitor. Your daddy doesn't love you. Nobody loves you." The rambling came to a stop, the mocking words halted. The Death Eater scoffed, and spat a wad of phlegm at her. It splattered into her hair as he stormed out.

There was silence as tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffled slightly, fingering the snake-ring Draco had given her, moving it in the faint light that streamed through barred windows. As usual, her thoughts turned to him, and she let out a breathy sigh.

"Draco…" She whispered. "Draco… Draco. DRACO-!"

"SHH! Be quiet Luna, we'll be found out." A voice snapped above her. She let out a breath, whimpering, leaning back into his legs in a search for comfort. He sighed before crouching down and stroking her hair.

"It happened again." It was not a question, but Luna nodded anyway. There was a muffled cry of anger and Draco broke away, pacing around the room

"We've got to stop this." He hissed. "We've got to get you away from here." There was a sigh. "They've captured another prisoner Luna- Wandmaker Ollivander. He'll be able to supply some companionship. I may not be able to see you for a while. I'm sorry." Luna's body quaked, a small sob emerging from her mouth.

There was silence, and Draco rushed over.

"Luna, I'm sorry, but it must be done." His fingers combed through her hair, taming the tangles. "Just know I'll be there for you. Loon-Luna, I'm sorry." A bang sounded from upstairs and he made a sort of hissing sound.

"Draco?"

"I have to go now. Just remember- wait for me." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and hurried off. Luna wiped away her tears, flinching at the pain in her chest. She wasn't sure of how long she could wait.

...

"Ollivander?"

Silence.

"Yes, my dear?

"He hasn't visited in weeks."

"I know, dear."

"Do you think he still loves me?"

Another pause.

"Did he love you in the first place?"

"I-I don't know. I just know… I loved him. I still love him."

"Luna."

Silence.

"Yes, Ollivander?"

"Your heart can tell you many things, but sometimes your head is the only thing you can trust."

"Oh. Oh- Okay, Ollivander."

…

"LUNA! Quick, take his hand!"

Luna glanced fearfully at Harry's panicked expression, then at the house-elf that was clutching both Griphook and Ollivander. She looked upwards at the staircase that led up to the ground-floor. She could hear the bangs of spells going off. Draco was up there.

"Luna!" Ron roared, whipping his wand out. "Bloody hell, Lovegood. Do you want to die or not?" Tears were beginning to blur her vision. Her throat was constricting with panic. She glanced around the room frantically, looking desperately for something to distract her from the matter at hand. Her eye's locked with Ollivander's.

A series of memories flit into her brain. Recollections or anxiously waiting for the blonde-haired man, waiting with never earning any recompense.

She steeled herself, looking into a pair of blue eyes ripe with wisdom, and she took Dobby's hand. His fingers, as pruned as a raisin, wrapped around hers and she took a breath.

"Okay." She whispered to herself, blinking furiously. There was a crack, and the four twisted into nothingness. "Okay."

…

" _Okay."_

Luna stared at Malfoy, the man she had once loved, as she was overthrown with whirl of memories. He stared back, envisioning the same occurrences, but in a far different light. Their eyes were locked. Blue met gray. Heart met heart. Memory met memory.

He was standing there, in the door of the Apothecary, a woman by his side and a ring on his finger. She was standing there, lost in the crowd, a suitcase in her hand and a ticket that would lead her far, far away. It was in that moment that they had their last chance. Their last time to say goodbye, their last chance to apologize, their last chance to make up.

And then one thought flashed in Draco's mind. _She didn't wait._

So Draco stared. Draco blinked. And Draco turned, leading his wife into the Potions store without looking back. Luna stared. Luna blinked. And Luna balled up her hands, working off the silver snake ring she had worn since the day she had found it, and let it drop to the ground.

And so two people left their past behind and headed out into a new world, never to look back.


End file.
